


if the world ends (then you're the only home i've had)

by WatchforWitches



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, Immortality, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Issues with Immortality, M/M, Mention of Death, Mild Sexual Content, Non Canonical Immortal, Post-Canon, Time Skips, immortal husbands?, maybe so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28434147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatchforWitches/pseuds/WatchforWitches
Summary: “You never get your head around it.” Magnus let out a hollow huff of laughter, “I’ve been immortal my whole life, hundreds of years of memories, and life, and endless cycles of death and rebirth. There are battles in my bones that my physical body carries with it every day, it feels like I am homesick for eons that I haven’t existed in. You don’t get used to it, not really. But when I look at you I just love you and that terrifies me, but it’s also like water to all the ceaseless fire inside of me that’s been raging for centuries. You don’t have to get your head around it, I just need you to talk to me if you have any issues.”“Why does it terrify you to love me?” Alec asks, voice soft and confused.Magnus just shakes his head and chuckles, “You just don’t know what I would do for you."
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 4
Kudos: 67





	if the world ends (then you're the only home i've had)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is sort of a love letter from me to all the long-winded fics spanning years of character's lives, and I wanted to try my hand at one. I've been working on this for a few weeks, and while all the moments are not necessarily related to life/death I wanted to build a narrative of their lives and how immortality, or the concept of a 'forever love' is to them. I've lost sight of if this is even cohesive or good to be honest, but I do hope you enjoy it.

_Something about immortality_

_Something about sharing pain while the world moves ceaselessly on_

_Something about the danger in your eyes_

_or how you always thought you’d die in your best friends arms_

_I think we make an odd pair_

_I think I like it_

\---

Death had always been a ceaseless monster. A concept so ingrained in shadowhunter culture Alec Lightwood knew more about it than life, felt more prepared for it for a long while. He supposed something about having to write a will at 20 years old messed you up pretty bad, let alone when you had flirted with the idea of death for a majority of your teen years. Death was just inevitable. An unyielding force meets an immovable object, life, and death, each the two sides of the same coin. It was a coin that Alec could not find the differences on some days. The life that he was living, and the death he was promised, both seemed ill-fitted, in different irrational ways. Alec figured he would die a shadowhunter death, in battle, his parabatai watching, the warm claws of a demon pumping venom into his body as he bled out onto the pavement. 

Some days he had wished for it with an almost ache of longing. The shame that followed him was worse than the thoughts themselves some days. 

There was just always something that had been both appealing and terrifying about death. It seemed something to be feared, but most shadowhunters' deaths were considered noble, they held funerals rooted in old traditions that were undying themselves. There was an honor, it had seemed, in dying such a death. They were born subservient to the angel, they were one of the few that were promised heaven and knew that it held no falsity. It _was_ natural. 

But it was still an odd thing. 

There seemed to be a burden in both life and death. There were so many people to disappoint on both sides and Alec despised disappointing people more than anything in the world. He wished there was a word for an in-between. What was it called when you were alive but felt you were not living? Or that you were alive but living half a truth about yourself? What was it called when some days you felt closer to death than anything else? 

There were no words for it. That’s what was so difficult about it. Alec thought he was crazy when he was younger when he knew less about himself when he was still confused and fearful. When he did have words for it, he didn’t much care for those, for what they meant for his life, for what he would have to give up to please his parents, his community. 

Alec Lightwood was burdened by many things, and death was just a part of this. He rarely thought of the implications of his death, save for very few moments of introspection he allowed himself. 

Death was just something that would happen to him, and he’d long ago accepted it as fact. 

\---

Death was an amorphous entity of a thing. Being immortal was to be apart from death as a concept. It was not that Magnus would never die, or could not die. He could be killed in several ways, and if he was not killed by something or someone, then he would simply live on. It was something that in his grand and ambitious youth had made him fearless to a fault. He threw himself into so many situations because he knew that his tomorrow was almost certainly promised. He thought, for a long time, that he was invincible. 

Until he lost someone. And death became something he experienced in a guttural and heartbreaking way. 

He had lost his mother and his stepfather, yes, but the blurred lines between then and when he was out and free as a young warlock, slinking through towns and countries like he was a permanent resident at any of them, were strong. He forgot most of his childhood because he willed it to be so, he refused to think about it for so long, he was determined in his unyielding goal of losing the pieces of him that hurt the most. 

He can’t even recall the name of the woman he lost now, only that he had loved her in that all-consuming way you can love someone in your youth. She had been vibrant and bold and everything Magnus pretended to be then. He clung to her and loved her and lost himself in her. And then she died. 

Because mortals did that, died of silly things like illness and old age and fevers higher than what medicine at the time could cure. He had been powerless in this act of theft, watching her last ragged breath, watching her be lowered into the ground. He cannot remember what country he was in at the time, but he can still summon the smell of the rain in the soil if he tried hard enough to dredge up the grief. 

Magnus did not like death much. He knew he was hardly the first person to feel this way, and that death took from everyone, not just him, but his relationship with it was so complicated. Mortals had the reassurance that they would meet again, one day, maybe. 

Magnus was forced to live on. Through every bit of grief, he had, through decades and decades of pain and hurt and loss. 

Death was just something that would not come for him unless called upon, and he’d long ago accepted this as fact. 

\---

Alec was standing in Magnus’ doorway, a wet mess in an all-white suit. Magnus hadn’t seen or heard from him since yesterday evening when they had shared the vulnerable conversation on the balcony. “I would have portalled you over here darling,” Magnus tells him, voice soft and hands still to himself, “You didn’t have to walk.” 

Alec didn’t lift his gaze from the floor, but Magnus could still notice the tremble in his lip and the way he was shaking; from the cold or something else, Magnus wasn’t sure. “I needed the air,” He replies eventually, voice hoarse and small, “Felt suffocated.” 

Magnus nods solemnly, knowing that feeling, knowing how helpless it is. “That’s alright,” he reaches his hand out for Alec’s, “You want to come in and take a shower? Warm-up a little?” 

Alec looks up into his eyes, his rimmed red and wet with unshed tears. He shrugged his shoulders up, a few drops of water dripping from his hair to the floor below, making a soft sound in the silent space. “The funeral was today.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Magnus says, moving his arms out for Alec to step into, only if he wanted to, only if he could, “I’m sorry.” 

Between the seconds, Magnus’ arm is wet with the fabric of Alec’s suit, his tear-stained face in Magnus’ neck. “I’m sorry,” Alec breathes, voice catching, “I didn’t know where else to go. I’m sorry.” 

“Shhh,” Magnus’ hand combs through his wet curls, “Don’t apologize. It’s okay Alexander, I’m glad you came.” He holds him more securely, willing his body heat into the shadowhunter’s, hoping in this small way he could be of any help. “It’s going to be okay. Let’s get you warm, hm?” 

Alec nods wordlessly from his spot at Magnus’ throat, leaning back and allowing himself to be led through the loft to the bedroom’s en suite. “Do you want to shower?” He asks again, holding a towel and a pile of warm clothes in his arms. 

Alec shakes his head, gaze once again at the floor. “Can I just change?”

“Of course,” Magnus agrees simply, leaving the pile at the sink basin and turning to leave. “Just call if you need anything I’ll just be right here.” And with that, he closes the door nearly fully and takes several steps into his bedroom. 

He waits nervously as Alec changes, wondering what he should do, what he could do. He’s helped many people through grief, been through it himself an inordinate amount of times, he should be an expert at this type of healing. But Alec has so much unwarranted guilt mixed up with this situation and it’s complexities Magnus still doesn’t understand the depth of it, but he’s trying to. He wonders if any other two people had been dealt so much heartache between their first kiss and their first date; the dredged _will they or won’t they_ with so many other issues besides wanting each other or not. 

It was clear they did, it was becoming evident in the way their lives intertwined. Magnus wonders what Ragnor would say of his devotion to a shadowhunter that wasn’t even officially his boyfriend, but that wound is too fresh to dig around in at a time like this, so he goes back to running his hands over his duvet cover and counting his breaths. They weren’t set in any stone yet, the Clave could still get their claws in deep enough to ruin it, Magnus’ own fragile heart could find all the reasons they could not be so. But, it was just the meantime. 

God forbid they exist in the meantime. 

A light cough alerts his attention from his socked feet to the man in front of him now, in a big sweater and warm sweatpants, towel around his shoulders still to catch the droplets from his messy hair. He looked shell shocked still, a little wild around the edges, but at least he was dry and warm and safe. At least he was here. “Hi,” Magnus spoke first, standing up from his lean against his bed, “You want some tea?” 

Alec nodded at this, “Please.” 

They have tea. And they talk about the tea, and then, when Magnus can’t stand the look in Alec’s eyes any longer, he reaches out across the kitchen island, placing a warm hand on Alec’s forearm. “It’s going to be okay Alexander. This isn’t your fault, I hope you know that. I hope you can understand the enormity of the truth in that. This has been a terrible week, and terrible things happened yes, but they weren’t your fault.” 

If Magnus didn’t know any better he would think that Alec could read tea leaves with the intense stare he has into the small cup. He watches him blink, watches a single tear roll down his cheek. Alec takes a hand into his sweater and wipes it away before it can find purchase on the marble countertop. “I feel terrible. I don’t know what to do. I can barely look at Clary, and when she took me to that warlock’s today she was so hopeful, and it rubbed off on me. But it didn’t work out, and she just broke down at the funeral, Jace was barely holding her together and it just felt like I was going to implode. It feels awful. I have no right to feel so bad when it was my hands that-” his breath hitches, his lungs having run out of room for this confession. 

“A warlock?” Magnus’ mind whirs with possibilities, none of them good, but wills the questions for another time, another person. “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter. Alexander,” he urges, waiting for the shadowhunter to look at him, “I know that you feel like you had a hand in this, but you didn’t, it was a demon attack. You are the victim of that too. The demon used you as nothing more than a vessel, those weren’t your hands, they weren’t your actions. Isabelle told me she was possessed too, if she hurt you would you blame her?” 

Alec bit his lip, shook his head minutely. “Just so,” Magnus continues. “What Clary is going through, all that grief, it’s enormous Alexander. It’s the kind that follows you, the kind that never goes away, but it gets easier. Death is,” he swallows, shaking his head, “Terrible. It’s a terrible awful thing, but it wasn’t your doing or your fault. Clary knows that, you know she knows that. She truly doesn’t blame you, and neither does anybody else. So please, please my dear, don’t blame yourself.” 

Alec looks up at him, a soft smile on his face, “I’m trying not to.” 

“Good,” he responds, “All that matters is you try. Death is just something that never gets easier to interface with Alexander. I wish I had any answers at all but I’m afraid I do not. But, I’ll be here for you whenever I’m needed.” 

“Thanks,” the shadowhunter nods in acknowledgment, damp hair still clinging to his forehead in spots. 

“Now,” Magnus puts his tea down, “What’s this about a warlock?” 

\---

Magnus had been in fights about this before, and hell, he’d even anticipated this fight. Immortality was not easy, and sometimes partners couldn’t accept the lifetimes that he’s lived through, as if he could barely handle them himself. 

But the box had been the tipping point. 

And now, he hasn’t seen Alec all day. It had been a stressful week already, the Clave having Alec on overtime, and he’d still managed to bring himself to the loft each night to sleep in Magnus’ arms, to get that reprieve. And now he was just gone. 

They had indeed come from two very different worlds, and the way those worlds viewed death was insistent on butting their ugly heads. Alec had grown up prepared to die a young death in battle; as much as it pained Magnus to consider, it was just the reality of his situation. It was not easy living lifetimes only again to recycle yourself for another, it was not easy to put that in words. Alec couldn’t understand the depths of those lives, the things he had seen, the amount of death and pain he’d been dealt willingly or not. 

But how could he tell Alec that he’d felt his weary heart growing cold and docile to the harshness of the world? How could he tell him his presence was like a defibrillator to the chest when his heart had stopped? 

Certainly, he couldn’t now, the timing was just not right, and Alec had still not yet replied to his text or returned to the loft. And dinner was getting cold. The second glass of wine had been bordering on lonesome, and the bitter alcohol’s burn felt less pleasant and more scorching. How could he manage this conversation without offering an insincere apology like a wilted lily? He had always been so easy to fix things in the past that saying things he didn’t mean had become a force of habit. And he wanted to break that habit with Alec, to forge a relationship in truths not half-hidden by willful ignorance. 

He felt the blip in the wards before he could come up with any actual concrete plan of action, it was time to face the music he supposed. “Magnus?” Alec’s voice came from the front door, tone much different than the anger he’d left in his wake that morning. 

It was only 7, he must have left early. Hope blossomed against Magnus’ will. “In the kitchen,” he called back, waiting for Alec to walk around the corner before offering a small but genuine smile. “You’re early, it’s only 7.”

Alec met his small smile with a matching one, looking at the food on the kitchen island. “I asked Izzy to cover for me. Magnus I-” 

“Alec, come to eat,” he gestures to the seat next to him, “It’s been a long day.” 

He watches the shadowhunter unlace the boots he had yet to remove, stepping out of them carefully before running them back to the front door. When he returned, he looked almost meek, nervous in a way he hadn’t been here in months. “I wanted to say I’m sorry,” Alec starts, words queued up, “I was out of line, I said things that I didn’t mean.” 

“So did I,” Magnus admits, reaching a hand out for Alec’s, needing that small comfort now. The hand that met him was cold with the chill from outside, and sent a shiver down his spine he was sure wasn’t completely from the weather. 

“I shouldn’t have looked through your stuff without asking, I had no right to do that. You welcomed me into your home and I broke that trust, I’m sorry.” Alec’s eyes are on their interlocked hands mostly, thumb rubbing across Magnus’ knuckles. 

“I want you to feel welcome here Alec,” Magnus shakes his head, “If it was genuinely something restricted I wouldn’t have it on the shelf. Granted I didn’t think you would find it, but that’s beside the point. Immortality is,” he huffs out a sigh, “Difficult. I understand that I do. It’s always an issue that’s brought up and I just, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me about it.” 

“I guess I just don’t know how to talk about it,” Alec admitted, meeting the warlock’s gaze, “I mean like you have past relationships, I know that I guess I just sort of freaked when I saw that. They are my hang-ups, I shouldn’t have put that on you I know it must be hard to have- los- had so many-” 

“Alexander,” he interrupts the shadowhunters stammering, “It’s alright. I understand. I’m a lot to handle, I-” 

“No!” Alec burst out, taking his turn at the interruption, “No you’re not a lot to handle Magnus. Frankly you are the easiest person in my whole life to be around at the moment. I just mean,” he takes a breath, “I don’t know what I mean honestly. Just that immortality is more complex than I figured it might be, and that I’m sorry that I’m going to mess it up while I get my head around it. And that I hope you can forgive me in the meantime.” 

Magnus smiled softly at his boyfriend, “Can I let you in on a secret love?” 

“Of course.” 

“You never get your head around it.” Magnus let out a hollow huff of laughter, “I’ve been immortal my whole life, hundreds of years of memories, and life, and endless cycles of death and rebirth. There are battles in my bones that my physical body carries with it every day, it feels like I am homesick for eons that I haven’t existed in. You don’t get used to it, not really. But when I look at you I just love you and that terrifies me, but it’s also like water to all the ceaseless fire inside of me that’s been raging for centuries. You don’t have to get your head around it, I just need you to talk to me if you have any issues.” 

“Why does it terrify you to love me?” Alec asks, voice soft and confused. 

Magnus just shakes his head and chuckles, “You just don’t know what I would do for you, I would do anything for you. And it scares me because I haven’t felt like this in decades upon decades. What I mean to say is that we both have ‘hang-ups’ Alec, immortality just happens to be one.” 

“That’s true I guess,” Alec agreed easily, “I would do anything for you too though, so, know that you aren’t alone in that feeling.” 

Magnus finishes his glass of wine and smiles, squeezing Alec’s hand, “We’ll figure it out together then?” 

“Better together,” Alec agreed, squeezing his hand back. 

\---

Alec’s head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton balls, his thoughts were lazed and his hearing was wildly distorted and far away. It was like he was listening to everything from behind a glass wall, and he couldn’t open his eyes no matter how much he wanted to. So he was left in this weird state of being, between asleep and awake, not conscious enough to fight himself back to the surface, but conscious enough to hear- however, distorted it was. 

“-xander, if you can hear me, love, please open your eyes. I can’t- I need you to be okay- I can’t survive both these losses, I need you here with me Alec. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I couldn’t get back to you quicker.” The words are sorted through thick sobs, wracking through the person talking at him with a quiet but insistent fury. “I want to see what old age looks like on you my love, please? I want you to hear you groan about your grey hair, I want to see your smile lines wrinkle your face. I want a life with you, Alexander, please. I’m not a begging man but I would for you, I will, I’m begging here Alec. Please, please.” 

The noises were so familiar, it was a voice that he knew. But from where? Who was this? Something in him was screaming at him, that he should know who this is, and that he needs to get back for them. He just couldn’t connect the voice he knew and the person it was, like the pathways in his brain were blocked off, he couldn’t connect the dots. 

“I thought I would die without my magic Alec, I thought it would tear me apart. But I was wrong, I can’t live without _you,_ Alexander. I will have to one day, but not now, not with everything that happened. I need you to come back to me, love.” 

Love, magic, living without one another. The pathway was becoming clearer, it was almost there; it was starting to make sense. This was the man he loved, the man that loved him. 

Who was that man? 

He couldn’t remember his name, he needed to see his face. The feeling was starting to come back to him, his chest was tight, and felt like there was a low spreading fire throughout him with every shallow breath. He just needed to open his eyes, then he would be able to figure out who it was, he could do that. 

He could do that. 

He had to. 

His eyelids refused to open, he could see the brightness of white lights from behind his eyelids. Light, brightness, an explosion. 

The Owl. 

Magnus! 

His name was Magnus, it was Magnus talking to him. He needed to get up, he had always been bad at fighting for himself but he wasn’t going to just give up, not when he had Magnus, who needed him, who wanted him for whatever reason Alec still had yet to figure out. 

He opened his eyes. 

He half wished he had just left them closed, at least for a few more moments, maybe to steel himself for what the world would look like. But there was no way he could have prepared his heart for what he saw. Magnus was next to his bed, crumpled in a small uncomfortable chair, head propped on his hands that were propped on the edge of the mattress. His eyes were puffy and redder than Alec had ever seen, and his hair was fallen and flat against his forehead, black still half smudged at his inner corner. “-us,” Alec tried to talk, tried to reach out his hand only to realize it was tucked inside the blanket that covered him. “Mag-” he tries again, throat so dry the half-word feels like sandpaper in his throat. 

Still, Magnus’ head snaps up, looking like a spooked cat. “Alec?” He meets his eyes and all the raw pain is so evident it sends an ache through Alec’s already aching chest. 

“I-” his voice is so small and ragged that he’s barely audible. “I need-” 

Magnus gets up quickly, coming back with a small cup. “Here,” he holds a small piece of ice to Alec’s chapped lips, “You can’t have too much liquid right now, this should help.” 

Alec opens his mouth and Magnus places the ice on his tongue, it’s cold but melts easily enough, giving his throat much-needed relief. He opens his mouth for another, watching Magnus watch him, this unspoken uneasiness between them unbroken by the silence. It feels heavy in a way that Alec cannot quantify. They have had plenty of moments of quiet care after battles, healing injuries, and playing through all the steps that went wrong and got them injured in the first place. This was not that. This was making Alec nervous. “Thank you,” he says after his third ice chip, throat finally hydrated. 

“You’re welcome,” Magnus replies, voice still low and almost afraid sounding. 

Alec takes his hand out from under the tightly bound blankets, moving it to Magnus’ face to wipe away the tears that had dried in tacky tracks down his face. Then he brings it up to move the hair that lay across his forehead, watching his boyfriend’s eyes close and sigh. “What happened?” 

Magnus opened his eyes, “How much do you remember?” 

“Uh,” Alec tugs at his memory, head throbbing in pain still, eyes dizzy and woozy. “The Owl attacked me, there was an explosion, a portal- I think I remember that.” 

“The Owl is defeated. My father he- he helped,” Magnus’ voice is complicated at that, his face dashed with pain. “Catarina came to help, brought us here, and got the arrow out of your chest. Jace went to get Clary but,” tears spring up in his eyes again, “It was too late. There was an explosion in the apartment. Lillith is gone, but Clary didn’t make it.” 

Another spasm of pain radiates through his chest, and he realizes now that the dull ache extended down into his soul, his parabatai rune aching and spreading hurt through him. “By the angel,” he gasps, “Jace must be-” 

“Not great, yeah.” 

Alec recalls all the times he gave Clary a hard time, or Jace a hard time because of her, and it feels like a punch to the gut. “Magnus- I’m so- _fuck_.” 

Magnus lifts a hand to grab ahold of Alec’s then, rubbing his dry knuckles. “One step at a time.” 

“What happened with your dad? You said he helped?” 

“He-” Magnus swallowed before continuing, “He did. He gave me the power that I needed. He just wanted something in exchange for that.” 

“What did he want?”

Magnus won’t look into his eyes, holding his gaze to their intertwined hands. “Don’t worry about all that right now, you just focus on getting better, hm?” 

It was that that set off the alarm bells in his head like a warning sign was flashing over Magnus’ head. He had thought they had gotten used to barring the truth to one another despite whatever that truth may be. He figured they were beyond trying to lie for what the other thought was a benefit, so this was making him even more nervous. “Magnus,” he tugs his hand away, waiting for his boyfriend to look at him properly. “Please. What did he want?” 

He watches the adam’s apple in Magnus’ throat bob as he swallows thickly, “My magic.” And when the words fall from his lips they are rushed and quiet, Alec almost misses them with the way they drip down into his lap, urgent and not careful and fearful. 

“You-Your magic?” And he can’t make the words make sense in his head, it’s like everything is some big puzzle that Alec has been handed the pieces to but can’t make the picture fit. “Like he needs you to help him with something? He wants you on standby to use your magic?” 

Magnus shakes his head, hair falling into his face again, biting his lips so hard they turn white. “No.” He chokes out more words, “All my magic for his help. I don’t have any magic anymore.” 

Suddenly, the picture is clear in its nightmare of awfulness. It feels like he had been standing on one last remaining piece of earth, and it crumbled underneath him, sending him into the dark abyss below. Then he remembers the pleading he had half-heard in his state of unconscious consciousness. _I can’t survive both losses_. His magic, and Alec. The puzzle picture is truly terrifying. “Wh-What? How could he take all your magic- are you sure-” 

“It’s gone Alexander,” Magnus interrupts, voice stern and louder than anything had been since Alec opened his eyes. “It’s all gone,” he whispers, voice cracking again, face breaking into silence awful sobs again. 

_Why would you do that?_ Alec thinks, _Why would anyone do that?_ His heart is pounding, and he can’t make sense of the story that he has been offered, sure that he would wake up at any moment to a world where all this is a sick dream. He can’t even say anything, he tries, opening and closing his mouth as Magnus just sits next to him and cries. His body moves before he can remember he’s injured, pulling at Magnus until his face is buried in Alec’s throat, breath hot and wet and awful. 

His magic. 

Alec still doesn’t believe it, doesn’t want to believe it may be, he’s not sure. His mind is a whirlwind then, thoughts all insistent and at once. _Would I give up my runes if he needed me to?_ Yes, he knew, he’d do anything. _Is he going to be okay?_ He doesn’t have the answer to that question, not yet.

He whispers softly to Magnus as he cries, shooing away the nurse that wants to take his vitals. They didn't need to check his heart, it was still there, he felt it breaking less than a moment ago. “It’ll be okay,” he whispers into Magnus’ ear, willing his voice to be still and strong, “I’m here for you, it’ll be okay.” 

He doesn’t give a reply, he doesn’t need one, not now. His thoughts are still a flurry like a hurricane had taken everything and shaken it up. And the worst thing is the one thought that sticks out the most, with Magnus’ broken in his arms, trying helplessly to pick up the pieces. 

_We could grow old together._

And he hates himself, just that little bit more, for the unwillingness of that thought prevailing. The only reason Magnus is in this position is because of Alec, it’s his fault he went to Edom. Alec should have _fought_ harder. But he didn’t. And now, everything was in shambles. 

It feels like everything is always in shambles. 

\---

Magnus was, for lack of a better term, depleted. He had plenty of magic to make a portal to the Institute, but interdimensional travel was its own beast, and he was pretty much tapped out by the time they got back to New York. Alec proposed he try conjuring them a portal home, but Magnus saw the look in Lorenzo’s eyes over Alec’s shoulder, and calmly suggested they just take a cab, bidding everyone thanks and farewell. 

He tried to reassure himself in the cab that the emptiness he felt was different from the one he had felt for months. He could still feel his magic, just resting below the surface, filling all the places he had ached in silence and rage for so long. He didn’t feel empty, just drained, and the difference between those two was enormous. He had felt like a shell of a person for so long, and he was slowly getting that person back now. 

He had so much to atone for, thinking of all the nights he suffered by himself, the nights Alec came home to him sprawled on the couch in an unmoving state of drunken denial. He had a lot to reflect on, he knew that much.

When Alec grabbed his hand, when he saw the engagement ring on his finger, his breath came a little easier. “You okay?” His fiance- and wasn’t _that_ a miracle to think- asked. 

He just nodded his head, “Getting there.” 

“I think a hot bath and steak is in your imminent future,” Alec told him, still half-delirious and giddy from everything that had happened, kissing the side of Magnus’ temple. 

He laughed, thinking back to that conversation at the Hunter’s Moon, so long ago. Magnus felt like a different person from the man at that bar, so irreversibly changed by everything he and Alec had gone through- both in stubborn separateness and together in harmony. Everything was different now, the shadowhunter had been as much of a mystery then as he had ever been, and then the precipice of ‘will they or won’t they’ seemed so massive in its unwillingness to let them go he was lost to it. Now it hardly seemed a question to even consider. Magnus had given up everything for him, would do it again despite the cavern of pain he had traversed through. They were getting _married._

It was so different now. 

“I just need you,” Magnus told him truthfully, squeezing his hand and smiling up at him. 

He watches Alec’s kind eyes scan his face, wishing he had never given Alec a reason to wonder if he was being truthful if he was truly all right. He thinks of his brief goodbye with Simon as Alec and Izzy talk quietly to the side, thinks of the way the words had just jokingly fallen from Simon’s lips as if he wasn’t about to tilt Magnus’ whole world on its side. 

_“You know I’m glad Clary got that rune, Alec was about 5 minutes away from making me turn him into a vampire so he could get to you, and I’m a terrible sire. It would have been awful.”_

Magnus had- in his admittedly weaker moments of magic loss- wondered if giving up his magic had been too large a cost. He would have done anything to make Alec happy, to make his life easier in any way, but the small terrible part of his brain had told him if the situation was reversed Alec would not have done the same. 

Now he had been given proof of just how wrong he had been, handed to him like a parcel that was supposed to be weightless, and yet in his clutches was a thousand pounds. The words that Alec had uttered in Edom were like an adjacent package, making the first clearer in a way he didn’t know how to handle. _“Then I stay here, with you. I’m never leaving you again.”_

Everything had happened so fast back in Edom he hadn’t had a moment to consider that sentiment. Or maybe there was a part of him so sure they would get back together any way that the implications just slid away from him. 

_Then I stay here, with you._ When he had said _here_ he meant _Edom_ not just in Magnus’ thoughts or heart, not just in the promises they made each other with the piece of metal on his finger. It seemed too unbelievable to be true. Alec was a shadowhunter, first and foremost. He had always been a shadowhunter, his whole identity was tied up in it, and he couldn’t be a shadowhunter in Edom.

Logically, Magnus knew that Alec knew that. But something about the enormity of that commitment didn’t make sense in his head. How Alec could know that he would be giving up _everything_ for Magnus alone and still promise him that. 

His head spins the whole way back to the loft, and even then it’s not until they are walking through the door of his home he had been apart from for weeks, with his _fiance_ at his side that he lets it sink in. He’s home. He’s really home. “I’m home,” he sighs, standing in the middle of the living room, breathing a sigh of relief so large he almost forgets he had come from literal hell. 

Alec watches him with an amused look spread across his face, a soft smile making his features show all the weariness that hadn’t been as obvious before. Magnus lifts a hand out towards him, smiling and feeling drunk off happiness. “Come here.” 

“Yes sir,” Alec responded, walking the few steps to close the space between them, taking Magnus into his arms and clinging desperately to him. “I missed you so much.” 

Magnus breathes, his face tucked against Alec’s neck, the smell so familiar to him even beneath the layers of soot and hellfire still holding firm. “I missed you,” he responds, voice wet and raw with all the grief and joy and regret that had taken ahold of him and hadn’t let go. He was beginning to discover his only real release was here, in the arms of the man he loves more than anything on Earth. 

“Magnus I’m so sorry, about, well everything I just-” 

“Later,” he hushes the shadowhunter, “Please. Let’s just enjoy this for now.” 

Alec’s arms squeeze him impossibly tighter, desperate and unyielding. “Okay.” 

They sway in each other's arms for a long while, basking in the silence of the moment, dancing slowly in circles to a song that only the two of them could hear. Nothing else in the universe could matter more than this moment, Magnus was sure. And while he was hesitant to break it, his hot rainforest shower was calling to him, begging for the layers of ash to finally be stripped away, his hair clean again, the old fashion way. “You know,” he starts, voice lilting into something light and playful, “We never got to celebrate our engagement properly.” 

Alec leaned back and looked at Magnus with a surprised expression. “What, you mean immediately jumping in to stop a war isn’t how you celebrate an engagement?” 

“Believe it or not shadowhunter,” Magnus laughs softly, “No, it’s not. I know this is the one thing you’ve done more than I have, but engagements are typically happy occasions.” 

He watches Alec roll his eyes, laughing loudly, reveling in the complete 180 his life had done in the last 24 hours alone. “Well, how do you suggest we celebrate then smart ass?” 

“Hmm,” Magnus pretends to think for a long moment, still swaying to the tune of the silence, “Well I can think of a great number of ways, but we will both need a good rest before most of them, I don’t suppose you have the strength to hold me pinned to the shower wall tonight, so the first order of business is just a regular shower. Then food, and then we will see where the night takes us, hmm?” 

“Angel I wish I could use my runes right now,” Alec sighs, no doubt his mind conjuring the very image of the two in the shower Magnus had so described. “Fine, we can do things your way I guess.” 

“Come on darling you still smell like hell.” 

“Next time I rescue you from another dimension I’ll be sure to put on extra deodorant beforehand,” Alec jokes, following Magnus through the loft. 

“There’s not going to be a nex-” His words die on his tongue as they weave their way through the study on the way to the bedroom. It looked like a bomb had gone off, a very small bomb localized to just the desk and the surrounding floor, sure, but still a bomb nonetheless. “What is all this?” 

Alec rubs a hand at the back of his next, glancing between the mess and Magnus’ face. “That would be nearly two weeks of sleep-deprived research manifested in physical evidence. I’m pretty sure you can still see the indent where I napped on that old journal of yours, and I may have used some of these to sop up some water I spilled. Nothing important though, I made sure it was just-” 

His words were cut off by Magnus’ mouth on his, desperate and full of everything he hadn’t known how to say for so long. “You did all this?” 

Alec’s cheeks are pink, blush climbing to his ears like it used to in their early days. “I mean, this is after I cleaned a lot of it, but yeah, sorry, I’ll organize everything tomorrow.” 

“No, it’s just,” Magnus shakes his head, wondering again how he ever could have doubted Alec and his heart, even in his lowest moments. Alec had always managed to be the eye of Magnus’ hurricane, the one spot of gentle quiet steadiness, even now, even after everything. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too,” Alec smiles, squeezing their palms together, “Come on, let’s get cleaned.” 

They manage to get to the shower in one piece, striping out of their dusty and dirty layers of clothes. Clothes, Magnus knew, he would never wear again, sure the scent of Edom would never come out of it, magic or not. 

He should have given their boundless exhaustion more credit, he did think once enclosed in the shower they would skip all his previously laid out steps and get right to _celebrating_. But they just take turns standing under the spray for a moment, each watching the other with a protective and loving gaze. Magnus’s chest feels tight as he watches Alec, his eyes closed, throat exposed as he soaks his face under the water, hair soaking and the dirt clearing away until the water runs clear. He watches the shadowhunter’s muscles sag, his face relaxes, his brow that had been knit for too long finally fall back into something less _worried_. He thinks of everything he had been through, everything Alec had been through with him. Surely it was too much to ask of him, it had always been too much to ask of anyone in his past, to love him so ceaselessly, so effortlessly. Alec’s love was obvious in everything he did, everything he said. It was the kind of love that Magnus had long ago convinced himself he did not deserve, and then convinced himself it wasn’t real anyway. 

It was real. It was Alec Lightwood. His extensive soul had just been crying out for so long for someone who had not been there, not yet. He had been made for Alec, he was sure, he felt his aching heart still, sure at that moment that everything would be okay. 

There was no way he could pay him back, he thought, no way he could ever give back Alec that kind of hope that he had been given. But he could try. 

He reached around Alec to grab the bottle of shampoo, taking his shoulder to turn him around. “Bend down a little for me?” 

“So you finally admit I’m taller?” Alec asks, looking back at Magnus to catch the indigent look he receives for the jab. 

“No the shower is built at an angle is all.” He quips back, squeezing shampoo into his palm. “Come on, just do it.” 

Alec complies, leaning at an angle ever so slightly so Magnus can better reach his head. He wasn’t that much taller, not really, but Magnus didn’t want to get shampoo in his eye by accident in his reach. He massages the shampoo into Alec’s hair, letting the strands of it in between his fingers ground him, the smell reminding him that he was indeed home and not having a horrible nightmare. “You never actually explained to me how you all got to Edom you know.” 

“Let me rinse first then you can put that deep conditioner in my hair and I’ll tell you.” 

“Deep conditioner? Wow, you must love me.” 

Alec laughs, spitting out the watery shampoo that gets in his mouth at the action. “Only for you, dear.” 

He gets the conditioner through Alec’s strands, and lets Alec wash his hair for him as he explains the process of the runes, of convincing Lorenzo, and getting the portal set up for their travel. He plays off the story as something that could happen any day of the week really, and not like a feat that had never been done before, and probably never could again. Although the implications of that rune do peak Magnus’ less than innocent interests, admittedly, he holds his tongue. “I can’t believe you did all that for me.” 

“Didn’t I tell you I would do anything for you?” Alec asks, letting himself be led under the spray as the thick conditioner rinsed from his hair. 

“Yes,” Magnus agrees, “It’s still a surprise though.” 

Alec opens his eyes, moving his hands through his hand to push it back off his face, “I hope one-day things like that don’t surprise you. I hope my doing things for you stops being a shock. We are going to be married, after all, so you better get used to it _husband_.” 

They weren’t married yet officially, but the title did stir something unnameable in him, unlocking some shred of hope that he had stored away centuries ago. He had never been one for titles, spending upwards of years with some people with no title ever put to their relationship. He had spent decades in defiance of the titles he was given, to fight a stereotype, to keep his safety, to not give too much of himself away. But this was different. This title made him feel like Icarus before the sun, in the moments of flight after so much work to get there, like he was free in the wind after a lifetime of entrapment. “I like the sound of that,” Magnus told him, “Say it again?” 

“Say what again _husband_?” Alec asked, a smirk on his face as he crowded Magnus up to the shower wall, his broad shoulders meeting tile. “You like that? Being called my husband?” 

Magnus sighed deeply, letting it all settle over him. “Yes,” he croaked out, watching Alec’s piercing gaze see right through him to the bushfire of lust he was enlightening. “I’ve never been anyone’s husband before.” 

“Well then,” Alec replied, leaning down to kiss along Magnus’ jawline, “I’m honored to be your first.” It was a callback to the same line Magnus had whispered against Alec’s throat before they slept together for the first time. He had been Alec’s first of so many things, he was rather excited that it was Alec’s turn to be _his_ first something. 

“Take me to bed,” Magnus practically groaned in Alec’s ear. 

“What about dinner?” Alec asked, still kissing behind Magnus’ ear, not making a compelling argument for dinner at all. 

“We can eat later,” he tells him, “Come on _husband_ , take me to bed.” 

“Breaking your own rules already,” Alec tutts, but leads them out of the shower anyway, turning the water off in his wake. When he turns to Magnus after they had both half-assed drying themselves with a towel, he looks almost hungry, and something stirs in Magnus’ gut. 

When Alec kissed him, it was like a tidal wave, like he was being pulled under by a force too strong to fight back- not that he ever wanted to fight this. Alec had been once insecure with his lack of experience, but what he lacked in experience he more than made up for with enthusiasm. When Magnus had Alec’s attention like this, it was all or nothing, consuming in its totality. He gave in easily, gave back as good as he got, kissing him with a desperation that he knew was all too evident in the small noises that had made their way through his throat and past his mouth. By the time their knees were hitting the edge of the bed, Alec was kissing Magnus’ throat, hand coming up to his chest and nipples. Magnus yelped when Alec had- somehow- managed to quickly move his hands under Magnus’ thighs, lifting him just enough to deposit him into the bed. It was a bed he had not slept on in too many nights, he almost moaned just from his tense muscles relaxing over the comfortable bed sheets alone. 

When they finally get off, it’s with clumsy tired hands wrapped around one another, too tired to go any further, and too wound up to last much longer anyway. Magnus almost felt like a teenager, the way the makeout session had expanded him, nearing cumming from that and Alec’s hand on his hip leaving small scratches there unknowingly. Afterward, Alec had collapsed next to Magnus, pulling him closer onto his chest. He could hear the shadowhunter’s erratic heartbeat from his spot, remembering the way sex tended to make his pulse unpredictable. 

_Alec was about 5 minutes away from making me turn him into a vampire._

The thought isn’t necessarily a welcome one, especially not that the current moment, but the heartbeat in his ear is enough to remind him of all the horror they had just lived through, the way he almost lost this. “Alec?” 

“Hmm?” His response is just a hum, but he still sounds strung out somehow, still on the edge of sleep. 

“Please don’t become a vampire,” he whispers, hoping his voice is steadier sounding out loud than it felt in his chest. 

“What?” Alec leans his head back, looking down at Magnus in his arms, face confused and nervous. 

Magnus sighed, “Simon told me you wanted him to turn you into a vampire.” 

Alec was quiet for a moment, meeting Magnus’s gaze with a look of confusion. “Only to get to Edom,” he clarifies, “It wasn’t like I just asked him for no reason.” 

“It would have been forever though Alec. Not just Edom. Forever, immortality. You would have had to die.” 

“I know,” he says it like it’s obvious, “I calculated all the angels of it before I suggested it. Even then my siblings acted like I had another head growing out of me. I needed to get to you, whatever it took, I was going to get to you.” 

“That would have been too high a cost,” Magnus sighs, burying his head in Alec’s chest, hoping the sweat sticky skin would aid against the flashes of everything awful they had faced coming up in his mind. 

Alec’s arm tightens against Magnus’ back, holding him as close as physically possible, kissing the top of his head. “Hey,” his voice is soft, tone insistent, “Nothing would have been too high a cost. _Nothing_. The weeks you were gone were the worst of my life. When everyone had given up and thought you were gone for good, and I was alone in the loft looking for you, I would have done anything to get you back.” 

The tears that had built up from weeks of loneliness unlike any he’d experienced, the raw heartache of the breakup that was forced on them, even the bittersweet joy of their engagement, finally broke out of him. It was the kind of crying that was more just uneven breathing than actual tears, the kind that rendered him unable to speak, to think clearly. The kind that he had needed to cry for what felt like months on end. 

Alec held him through it, shedding a few tears of his own. They had both been starved of each other in one way or another for too long now. It was time that they poured alcohol in this wound, it’s time they started to heal their hurts together. 

“If it meant immortality then so be it. I’d gladly spend forever with you, you know that.” 

Magnus truly never met a single soul like Alec. Someone who was so willing to commit to something, no regrets of any second thoughts. Every time Magnus had ever loved someone, it felt as if he lost a piece of himself. Like he had barred open his heart for them to crawl inside of, uncaring of the damage it would leave in him in their wake. Now, with Alec, it felt as if he had his heart guarded for so long, for so many reasons. He was a shadowhunter, he was young, this was his first dalliance with love, all things that Magnus argued would break them, break him in the process if he fell too deeply. Instead, Alec had become the only steady thing in his life, the easiest constant he had ever had. He wishes there were words to describe the enormity of that, that unattainable way Magnus had wanted to feel for hundreds of years finally claimed. He had been made strong before he was made happy, and Alec had just done these things, made these declarations like they are nothing, like they are obvious. Nobody had truly ever loved Magnus enough to live alongside him, nobody had ever so clearly stated that the immortality that clung to him like an unwanted shadow most days was not a weakness or a negative against them. Maybe in the beginning it had, but what was a couple of fights in the face of all that they were? Was the band on his finger not enough to convince himself that Alec was not going to be pulling the rug out from under him, that what they had was real, after centuries of faking it? He could barely breathe for everything he felt then, all the emotions warring inside him, just streaming out through his tears, his ragged sobs that shook his whole chest cavity and split him open. 

So no, maybe he had not known that when Alec said forever, he meant it. Whatever that forever looked like they really would always find a way back to one another. 

He knew, truly then, he knew this for the irrevocable fact that it was so clear. 

Forever. 

\---

Alec was sure that his palms had never been as clammy as they were right then, sure that if he even attempted to shoot an arrow right now the bow would just slip out of his grasp before he could aim straight. Then again, the suit was also too tight in the shoulders for him to shoot. 

There wasn’t anything here that would need to be shot through, he reasoned, forcing the part of him raised to be a shadowhunter weapon to stop whispering into his already busy mind. The knock at his door was enough to bring him out of his thoughts entirely though. 

“It’s open!” Alec shouted from his space in front of the large mirror, tugging at his suit to ensure it sat perfectly. 

“You tug at those sleeves anymore they are going to rip right off your shoulders, and the Magnus will somehow blame me for letting it happen,” Jace strode into the room, already dressed in his suit, bowtie hanging around his neck. “Seriously that man is terrifying right now, do not fuck with anything that could cause a disruption.” 

Alec laughed, letting go of the stiff fabric, “He can’t be that bad Jace.” 

“Dude, he reminded me four times that if I lose your rings, he will personally castrate me himself,” Jace shuddered, “You’re marrying a mad man, and I’m letting it happen. What have our lives become?” 

“To be fair those rings are the product of hours of research and conjuration work,” Alec shrugged, “I feel like he’d be letting you off easy with that punishment.” 

Looking at his brother it was clear that he had been running around to double and triple check everything. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was already loose and out of place. He looked more nervous than Alec, and that was saying a lot seeing as he had been waiting nearly 2 years for this day. 

They were technically already married, some big political event in Idris with far too many old people that Alec had never met that just barely approved of what was happening. He had barely danced with Magnus or had a bite to eat with all the hands he had to shake and people he had to meet with; Unfortunately, the same people that he had appealed their wedding to in the first place, the lawmakers had to be invited if not for a show of thanks than just for the tradition of the Clave bullshit. 

There was not a Clave member insight today unless you counted Alec himself, but he figured exceptions could be made on account of him being half of the people getting married, even if he was the self-admitted less interesting half. Today was just for them, a small event held in the heart of New York, stowed away in Central Park, glamoured to any mundane adventurous enough to climb through several areas of bush and forest. Alec told Magnus he could plan what they were considering their real wedding anywhere he wanted, and he had wanted it close to home just before sunset, with conjured lightning bugs dotted throughout the ceremony space. It was perfect in that it was just for them and their loved ones- politics of their shadow world titles aside. 

“You have your stele?” Jace asked, patting down his own pockets, a look of mild panic on his face. 

Alec laughed and pulled it from inside his suit jacket, twirling it as he held it. “Yes, Jace calm down.” The stele was made special for the day, smaller than his usual one, and carved with runes for the occasion. Wedded Union, Love, Fortitude, and a handful of other smaller ones that Alec had thought to request. He hadn’t been sure that he would even take the rune, being that Magnus couldn’t himself, but he had a surprise for him tucked away in the same pocket for their private moment between ceremony and reception. 

“Can we just get this show on the road, I don’t know how much more wedding stress my heart can take.” Jace dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief, fixing his hair in the mirror. 

Alec laughed lightly at his parabatai, sure his heart was going to be too full by the end of the evening. Jace had been right there with him, fighting for Alec’s wedding, his marriage. Even though the period of Clary recovering her memories of the shadow world and everything that happened, even as they were back to square one in regards to their relationship in a strange sense, he had been there for Alec every step of the way. “Yeah of course,” Alec told him, brushing at the nonexistent lint on himself. “Come on, walk me down one more aisle.” 

Jace beamed at him, “Gladly. Although this is the last time I’m being your suggenes man, for real.” 

Alec put a hand on Jace’s shoulder, smiling broadly at him. “Don’t worry, this is the last time. No more weddings for me. You can get me back when you and Clary get hitched, get married at a volcano on Friday the 13th or something.” 

“One step at a time,” Jace laughed as they walked to the edge of the ceremony space.

Alec had walked first at their Idris wedding, wanting Magnus to be able to focus on him during his walk-up, not the dozens of eyes that could have gunned for his throat years ago. They were blocking out as much of the bullshit that they could, however, they could. But now he was walking second, Magnus already waiting for him under the arbor of flowers. He wiped his palms on his suit pants one last time before turning to Jace and then towards the ceremony aisle. “You ready?” Jace asks, knocking their shoulders together. 

“I’ve been ready for 2 years,” Alec sighed, “Let’s do this.” The strumming of Simon’s guitar strings start the procession, everyone standing up and looking back, all eyes on him. 

When Alec had thought of what his wedding would look like, the few times he had forced himself to confront it, it was so distant from this. There was a near detachment he thought he would have as if it was a simple few step process. Find a wife, pretend to be desperately in love for a wedding, figure out your life from there. And now, he was walking towards his husband, so in love, there was no question of it being fake, everyone could see it. He felt like he had been caged for so long as if his soul was forever lost until this man, this moment. He was hope beyond hope, and he was Alec’s husband. 

They had kept their Idris ceremony fairly low key, at least for Magnus’ tastes. Alec had permitted that this was a ‘whatever Magnus says goes’ ceremony, as he was the one who had always secretly wanted a wedding of his own, so the choices were in his magic hands. In the end, it was nothing too extravagant, not really. The arbor was a large old wooden structure painted white, covered in flowers and gold ribboning, and the aisle was a simple white runner with blue petals strewn about thanks to the help from Madzie, and the chairs - though few in number- were arranged neatly with elegant ribboning down the ends of the rows. It was simpler than Alec would have thought it was but still beautiful in the subtle way Magnus knew how to be.

The suits were what had mattered to him anyway. They had married in neat black tuxes in Idris, simple and stylish but still plain, they had made for nice photos, and Alec had a great deal of fun peeling Magnus out of it layer by layer that night, but still, simple. The suits they wore now were completely different, so far from the simple black. Alec’s jacket and pants were a deep navy blue color, with gold accents laced throughout- in the buttons, the seams, and the lapels. He had an intricate boutonniere of white calla lilies fastened to the jacket pocket, a representation of faithfulness and an old tradition that Magnus had long ago fallen in love with. The cuffs on his jacket sleeves were a golden green color, a touch that Alec had found while out with Izzy, the color reminded him of Magnus’ eyes and he had purchased them immediately. Meanwhile, Magnus was dressed in an ivory white color tux, with a similar golden accent laced throughout. His boutonniere was made up of cornflowers to keep an accent of the blue color scheme, along with a deep navy coloring in his hair with golden streaks interspersed in the blue. They were getting married in shadowhunter gold and warlock blue, a statement that to them was just another manifestation of their commitment, but to the Clave may have been too much. They had been straddling a fragile line, they were both aware of that, aware that making it easier in any capacity was worthwhile if just to go over the top at what they had both come to call ‘the real wedding.’ 

Because this was their wedding. When the stress of planning the political nightmare that was their Idris wedding, and Magnus had joked about running away and just eloping by themselves, Alec found the idea more appealing than the joke intended. Their real wedding was something planned between meals, over glasses of wine in the evening, and as they fell asleep in one another’s an embrace. The details were easy, the planning was easy, their real wedding- the one for them and their family alone- was easy. 

And so, standing in front of his husband now, was also easy. The nerves playing in his stomach were just a back seat for the affair. As Jia recited all about their marriage and commitments - the mundane ones, not just the shadowhunters' rights of the wedded union- Alec took Magnus’ hand in his. “Alec, Magnus, you may now exchange the vows you have written for one another.” 

Ah, yes. Alec had to speak now, he had practiced his vows over and over the night prior, making sure he knew exactly what he wanted to say, what he needed to say. Idris had been easy, if impersonal, he just parroted back the words the Silent Brother told him, the same he had heard at the few weddings he had been to. But this was for them, and so he bid himself to pour his soul into the words. “Magnus,” he started, smiling at his husband, “When I met you I was barely anything but a shadowhunter hiding from his own shadow. I didn’t live before you, I hid, simply put. When you came into my life, I couldn’t have imagined what I was gaining. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, whether or not I wanted to admit it, and it was the best fall I have ever had. Magnus, you are the kindest, most loyal, and tender person I have ever met and had the pleasure of loving. Thank you for taking my heart and making it something worthwhile. I promise to love you forever and stand by your side through whatever comes our way. Seeing as we have battled out of literal hell together, I do like our odds. I love you Magnus Lightwood-Bane.” 

Magnus’s smile was so bright Alec was sure the front row would be blinded by it, and he was wiping his cheeks of the stray tears he couldn’t manage to keep in. “Now how am I supposed to follow that?” He joked, laughing with their small audience. “Alexander, you have my heart, you know that. From that first fated meeting, you intrigued me in ways that no one had in so long. And when I got to know that soul of yours I knew that you were truly one of a kind. You took my patchwork heart and made it new. I have never loved anyone like you Alec, and no one has loved me as you have. I had long given up on this,” he gestures around them in an almost awe, “I managed to convince myself that nobody would ever want this with me, that I would never want this with anyone. You have proven me wrong time and time again Alec, and I know you hate that you can still surprise me with your love, but I am glad for it. I have seen hell inside of myself for a long time. I was sure it was untameable, a feeling incurable by anything, let alone time. You make every obstacle monumentally easier, with your heart and your grace. I will never be able to express in words how much you mean to me Alexander Lightwood-Bane, but I will spend the rest of my life looking for the right ones. Thank you for loving me, I love you so much, darling.” 

Alec did not cry much, just on principle, but like hell, if he wasn’t shedding a few tears by the end of Magnus’ vows. He was immensely glad they did this because he knew these vows would forever be in his memory. 

The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur before they are ushered off into private quarters while the reception space is put together. “I’d say that was a success,” Magnus smiled, giddy with an almost drunken state of joy. Happy in such a jubilus and carefree way. 

“Wedding of the century,” Alec exhaled, all his nerves and emotions rolling off him at once. 

Magnus turned to face him then, taking him by the jaw and dragging him closer still until their lips connected again, sweet and savoring the moment of quiet between just the two. 

_Now or never._

“Magnus,” Alec hummed, pulling away slightly just to be able to speak. 

“Yes husband,” he replied, drawing out the syllables in husband. 

“I have a,” he hesitated a moment, “surprise? Proposal? I’m not sure how to phrase it really.” 

Magnus lifts an eyebrow at this but watches Alec reach inside of his coat for the stele he had stowed away. “I was hoping you would draw the wedded union rune on me? If you would want that.” 

“The wedded union rune? Does it work like that? Doesn’t it need a connection?” 

“Ah,” Alec continued, pulling the necklace out from his pocket. “I had this made for you. If you would want to wear it that is. There’s obviously no Adamas in it, and it doesn’t work exactly the same, but, it’s a good enough replacement for the real thing.” 

“Bound for life?” Magnus looks up at Alec, eyes shining with _something_. 

Alec swallowed and nodded. “Yes. Only if you are comfortable with it, I know that _for life_ means something different to you than me, and I know that runes are a shadowhunter thing, and if you don’t want to wear it that’s okay, I just thought that maybe-” 

He was interrupted by Magnus’ mouth on his, sudden and pressing. “Alexander,” he exhales, air punched out of him, “Of course. Darling, of course, I want that. I know what that means, for you to ask that of me. I love you and I want to show the world that. Plus if it pisses off some Clave members, I am more than willing.” 

Alec laughs at that, relief and joy mixing with love and devotion, everything all at once. “I love you.” 

“And I love you,” Magnus squeezes his hand, “So, how is this done?”

“Rune on the hand, rune on the heart. That’s how the saying goes, but it can go wherever really.” 

“Well, your body shadowhunter, where do you want them?” 

“Hand and heart seem as good a place as any to me, I don’t use those spaces for anything else.” He brings up the stele between them, “You’ll have to let me hold the stele, but you can hold my hand over it.” 

“Well, don’t mess it up,” Magnus teases, “You only get one shot at it.” 

Alec leads them to the small bench in the room, taking a seat and peeling off his suit jacket. “Here give me your hand.” 

Magnus gives him his hand, wrapping their fingers together firmly around the stele, familiar but still strange in it’s minute differences to his others. He peels his shirt down his shoulder, Magnus’ eyes on the stele and then his husband's chest. “And here I was thinking that I’d have to wait until after the reception to get you out of your clothes.” 

“What kind of cheesy line was that?” Alec laughed, “You’re losing your touch, Bane. Plus we hardly have time to do anything, we have 10 more minutes max.” 

Magnus laughs loudly then, “I think you greatly overestimate your stamina, my dear.” 

Alec shoots him a look and rolls his eyes. “Rude. Come on, here,” he guides Magnus’ arm to a better position and starts drawing the rune, feeling the fizz of rune magic under his skin, amplifying and sending a warmth down to his toes and through his head. “Woah.” 

“What?” Magnus nearly tugs his hand back before Alec tightens his hold. 

“No no,” Alec stopped, “It feels good. Nice.” 

Once the rune is drawn onto his chest, settling into his skin, they draw it’s a twin on his left hand to go along with his ring. He flexes his hand afterward, staring at the new rune, a now-permanent reminder of his husband, of the fact that he was married to the love of his life. “No backing out now, guess you’re stuck with me.” 

“A tragedy,” Magnus sighs, “Truly what am I supposed to do? Be happy? Imagine.” He laughs softly, leaning against Alec, reveling at their closeness in a quiet moment of bliss. “Will you put the necklace on me?” 

“Of course,” Alec turned in his spot, holding the necklace up carefully. He’d helped Magnus put on necklaces before, of course, he couldn’t have spent as much time with his husband as he did without learning the ins and outs of various necklace clasps. Once Magnus turned, a smile bright on his face, holding the medal in between his fingers with something close to reverence. “It looks great on you.” 

“It’s perfect,” Magnus smiled, looking from his necklace to Alec’s hand, the matching runes plain as day for everyone to see. “Thank you so much for this Alexander. I love you.” 

“You know I grew up learning about this rune. Seeing it in the few weddings we went to when we were younger. I always liked the symbolism of it, the idea of having something like a rune for something like marriage, it made sense to me. When I realized I was gay I think the idea of it went from romantic to terrifying. I stopped wanting it, stopped thinking it was an option. But I love you, more than anything in the world really, and getting to wear the rune for you, for our marriage, Magnus, it means more to me than you could ever know. And I don’t know what our future entails, but I will be right here, with you 100% of the way.” 

Magnus wipes a stray tear that had fallen from Alec’s eye, a warm hand cupping his cheek. And at that moment nothing mattered. Not their political claims, not their vastly different lifespans, and not whatever any outside opinion was of their union. All that mattered to Alec was that Magnus was always as happy as he was right now. “Better together,” Magnus smiles, squeezing their hands together, “Always.” 

\---

Magnus was admittedly not used to splitting their lives between Alicante and New York yet. The boys were training at the New York institute under their uncles and aunts, and Magnus and Alec had elected to relocate to be with their kids. Alec was permitted to act as an envoy for the Clave, letting someone take over his in Idris responsibilities as Inquisitor as long as he was on call- and with a husband who could summon a portal at a moment’s notice, it was a surprisingly convenient setup. 

It was still strange, sometimes, to be spread into so many corners of the shadow world- namely the shadowhunter adjacent ones. Most downworlders were still hesitant about the seeming new alliances, the new rules, the rewritten accords. It had certainly seemed like a lot of leniencies in a short period of time. Magnus figured if he hadn’t been so tied up in it he would have also not quite trusted it. He had explained this to Alec many times, how immortality made for some tensions to not be quelled so easily, warlocks and vampires still remember the days they were hunted for sport, it was going to take time and dedication, but he didn’t doubt Alec. 

He sighed, checking his phone for what felt like the hundredth time. He had a rare off day but his sons and husband were still at the Institute, he was admittedly growing bored. Raising two boys was in itself an adventure, let alone one being a warlock and one a shadowhunter, both with various hurts in their pasts that their dads had tried to help heal. 

Magnus sometimes found it ironic how much he and Rafael were alike and how much Alec and Max were similar. Magnus understood Rafael’s quiet intensity, his struggles; they were a good team, even if this similarity sometimes left them at odds with Alec or Max respectively. Their family was a dynamic group, but they worked, Max was nearing 6, and Rafael being 8 meant days spent in training and school. They are busier than ever before, but he and Alec still talked about the possibility of adopting another child sometimes, whispered on mornings spent in bed or at night on the couch after the boys were asleep. 

It was certainly never the path he thought his life would take, in all the years of his heart longing for something he couldn’t even find words for, he never figured he could have solved that ache. Alexander had a definite certain way of surprising him, he always had. 

“Magnus?” Speaking of the devil, his husband called out to him, “You home?” 

“In the living room,” Magnus called back, lounging on the couch he had gotten as their family outgrew the smaller previous one. “How was your day love? Where are the boys?” He asks belatedly, noticing Alec is alone. 

“It was a busy day. And they asked to spend the night at Luca’s place,” Alec explained, setting down bags that smelled like Magnus’ favorite Thai food. “Well, Luca and Rafe asked Luca’s parents and then Luca’s sister wanted Max to join too, and you know how sleepovers get so out of hand.” 

Magnus chuckled at the explanation as if he could hear the excited voices of their sons and their friends, running back and forth to plan everything perfectly. He was proud of Rafael for how far he had come. When he joined their family he spoke so few words and asked for nothing from them. It had taken them almost a year to get him out of his shell and to discover the bubbling personality that rivaled his younger brother’s. “Ah yes, sleepovers. Well, whatever are we going to do with the house to ourselves for an evening?” 

Alec glanced at him, giving him an appraising once over. Certainly, Magnus had looked better in the past than he did at the moment, lounging in Alec’s hoodie and some simple black skinny jeans, but his husband still smirked his telltale _interested_ expression. “I have Thai food. We’re having dinner first.” 

Magnus groans, but accepts the container of food when Alec passes it to him and sits next to him, sighing in relief as he hits the couch. “When did we get so domestic?” 

Magnus laughs at that, “I’d say somewhere between kid 1 and kid 2, most likely.” 

Alec hums at that. He seems distracted, almost. It’s not hard for Magnus to pinpoint, not after so many years together. Alec was quieter than usual, offering no colorful commentary about his day or Rafael’s training. It didn’t make him uneasy per se, sometimes a stressful day kept Alec’s attention even after he got home, but he was eager to coax him away from it, and enjoy their suddenly free evening. “Is everything alright Alexander? You seem,” he paused, searching for a word, “withdrawn.” 

“Everything’s fine,” he reassures quickly, “But, there was- Well, Jace sent me a fire message today.” 

Before he can ask for any details, Alec is reaching into his jeans pocket and hands Magnus a folded piece of paper charred still around the edge pieces. He unfolds it, eyes scanning the message, stomach-dropping. 

_Hey man._

_So, Clary was talking to me today and we were going over the runes she had created in the past to record for the Greybook. She didn’t tell me before, but she had a rune that grants its wearer immortality so long as the rune isn’t damaged in any way. She was going to tell you at the wedding, but everything was still kind of fresh, and she doesn’t know the finer details._

_I just thought you should know._

_Do with that information what you will._

_Also, Rafael is going to give his old man a run for his money someday, kids got gall._

Magnus feels as if all the air in the apartment has been vacuumed out, or worse he’s in a vacuum alone getting emptied. He feels almost sick, the way his head spins. “What?” He can’t even really speak, it’s hardly what he wanted to say. Something closer to _you didn’t do it did you?_ or _please tell me this is a joke._

“I didn’t get a chance to talk to him. He and Clary were busy all day, he just sent me that before I left.” Alec’s face looks ashen, but not for the reasons Magnus would want, but rather for the reasons he fears. 

“Alexander,” his voice is a clear indication of how he feels about this, a desperate pleading tone coaxed out of him by fear. “Please don’t do this.” 

Alec looks like he was struck, surprised, and hurt wearing on his face. “What do you mean?” 

Magnus swallows, shoves the paperback at his husband. “Alexander, this isn’t an answer to some question. Immortality is a terrible awful curse. I don’t want this, _you_ don’t want _this_!” 

“I want you,” Alec replies, hurt evident in his voice, “I want you as long as I can have you. You already enchant all my weapons, my ring has I don’t even know how many protection spells in it, what's the difference?”

Magnus stands, suddenly needing to move, need to have space enough to look at Alec for whatever storm is about to come. He thought they had covered this, but then again he supposes it had never really been a viable option, at least not in a means that meant Alec stayed a shadowhunter. “What's the difference? Alec, you know the difference! Immortality isn’t just something you can decide, not for one person. It’s not something you can just decide you want on a whim of love! I’m not selfish enough to ask that of you, I don’t want that from you!” 

Alec swallows, putting his foot down on the coffee table before looking up at Magnus, watching him pace the floor. “Why not? Why can’t I decide it for you, for us? Why is that wrong of me to want?” 

“Alexander,” Magnus huffs, trying to keep his cool as anxiety prickles up his spine, “There are no good outcomes here. You can’t live hundreds of years with someone as a constant, that’s not how it works. The best-case scenario is that _maybe_ we don’t end up snuffing out every bit of love we ever had for each other. That we just exist. The worst is that we end up hating each other. Or you go through loss after loss of mortals in your life, and all that pain and hurt gets turned towards the man you gave it all up for, to begin with and you despise me for it. I won’t have that Alec, I won’t.” 

Alec looks stunned, “I could never hate you. You know I couldn’t. Why would you say that?” 

Magnus closes his eyes, wishing suddenly that he was articulate in a way that would get through to his husband, how he could feel the naivety off of him with each word of defense. “Because you have no perspective on what it means to live forever! You don’t. I had to get used to leaving people, and people leaving me. I’ve been alive for nearly 800 years and the pain of those losses is something that I still carry with me. You don’t forget. You don’t grow with someone just because you really really want to. I’m saying this not because I don’t love you, but because I love you more than anything in the world. I’m thinking of your happiness Alec, you can’t be immortal and be happy.” 

“You’re not happy? Max isn’t happy?” Alec, in true shadowhunter fashion, keeps finding arguments to say, things to throwback and make any of Magnus' words less true. They don’t fight often, but when they do, it can get heated.

“Max is a child! He’s only 6, that’s not what I’m talking about. And of course, I’m happy, but I’ve also lived decades where I wasn’t, decades where against my will and wishes I could feel myself growing cold and embittered towards the world around me. What happens when you lose your family Alec? Your parents, Izzy, your parabatai?” 

“You are my family!” Alec stands at this, still several feet away from Magnus but now on the same eye line at least. “God damn it, Magnus, you are my family. You and Max and Rafael, I’m thinking of you all. I thought you would at least think about it with me.” 

Magnus feels himself losing the hope for this to be a productive conversation, and rather felt it tilting towards a fight. “If I asked that of you if I let you just throw yourself in this, I would be the most selfish partner alive. I know the pain of living forever, you don’t! Alexander come on, you knew from the start that there is no good ending between us!” 

It’s the words he had felt in the deepest parts of him, the scared little boy still clinging to his mother’s side, the boy who was shoved underwater and told to die an easy death but didn’t. It was the ugly part of him that snarled its way into his subconscious. 

_You and I don’t get a soft epilogue_ he had thought once, looking at his husband as he slept peacefully, _You are going to die one day and leave me with a pain I don’t know I could ever recover from. We are good people and we fight good fights, but one day you will be gone, and I’ll be what’s left of our love story, alone, again._

He hated himself for thinking it, hated his cruel brain for forcing the thoughts into his head. When Alec woke up Magnus coaxed him into fucking him into the mattress, hiding his stray tears as overstimulation and pleasure as the horrible, gut-churning thought that nothing was ever permanent. 

Now, the words escaped from him unbidden, the silence in the loft was once again a third guest in their home, dancing between them tauntingly. Alec’s face looked betrayed, his eyes wet with tears that clumped his lashes when he blinked, two tracks silently falling from the shock and the hurt of the truth, like a nerve exposed and burned. It would almost be cathartic if it didn’t hurt so damn much.

Alec looked at him, blinked, swallowed back his words, his arguments, and left the room, slamming their bedroom door with a force Magnus had not heard in a number of years. 

How had everything spun so far out of his control? How had they gone from having a nice dinner with the promise of a pleasurable evening, to angry and hurt and separated by doors and walls? 

Magnus let himself collapse back into the sofa, and he hurled one of their pillows across the room and screamed into another. Nothing was fair. Nothing had ever been fair. How could this still damage them, so many years into marriage, how could immortality still play its silly games of war between them in silence for so long? The long drawn out silent tension when someone brought it up, the way people looked at them when they were in Clave meetings, the way the cards on Valentine’s day and birthdays that promised a lifelong love had always stung, just a little. 

This wasn’t a new argument. This was well-trodden ground between them, this fight. It was a careful minefield, one that they had managed to stealth across for much longer than Magnus would have thought, but one that he had just stepped foot on the bomb and blew to smithereens. It was no longer just a tense and awkward avoidance, it was here and now and it was _loud_ , demanding attention, demanding all the awfulness of secrets long withheld to be brought to the light to burn with the shrapnel. 

Magnus looked up at the family photo they had framed above the television, a large framed copy of their favorite from the set they had posed for. Max was across Alec’s back, Alec was bent over in a laugh, Magnus stood near them, laughing at the ridiculousness of the scene before him, holding Rafael on his hip as the boy watched his brother and dad with a smile. It was innocence and happiness, and it was currently breaking Magnus’ heart. He didn’t know how long he stared at the photo before he felt himself shaking apart, sobbing into the throw pillow in his arms, wrapping himself around it like it could stop the hurt of everything that had just happened. He had meant what he had said though, Alec was barely 34, what he knew of life was short and mostly sweet. He lived this fantasy with rose-colored glasses, and they were hiding the real color of all the red flags. Maybe, somewhere, in his heart, he wishes for it- with a secret yearning he never brings to light. Maybe somewhere in the heart that Alec himself had reconstructed, he wanted it, but he wanted his husband’s happiness so much more. He never wanted there to be a version of Alec that he could not love, a version of Alec that could not love him. 

There had been times when it was more realistic an option, more on the forefront of his mind. The months without his magic, when he had been a mortal for that short time and getting old with Alec was his reality. When he learned of Alec’s near plan to become a vampire and go to Edom and the terrifying concept settled in him. When the two were younger, eager to give up everything without a moment of hesitation because they had no children to think of, no people to guide. The burden of responsibility had forced a more mature undertone into the way they showed their devotion to one another. Jumping into battles and deals with devils and giving up whatever it took was certainly still something that Magnus would do if he needed to, but he found comfort in the way that their lives led them. There was a peace in the steady ebb and flow, and so far often removed from the concept of time, Magnus felt older and younger all at once with his husband like this. 

Currently, he just felt lost. His sobs had subsided into hiccuping breaths, and his body finally stopped shaking. He had heard the shower running several moments before, in between deep shuddering inhales, but when he listens now everything is once again silent. 

He makes a tea, and then he holds the tea in his hands mostly for warmth, only actually drinking a couple of small sips from the cup. It loses its heat fairly quickly and he snaps the cup back to the kitchen. He has no true grasp of how much time has passed. Long enough for their food to grow cold, long enough for his tears to dry tacky tracks across his face, long enough that the silence is starting to hurt. 

The door to the bedroom creaks when it opens. It takes everything in him to not turn his head, to not watch Alec walk across the floorboards. He looks up only once Alec’s sock feet are standing in front of him. If Magnus thought his face was in a state of disarray, then it is only mirrored on Alec’s, his cheeks flush from tears long since dried, his hair a mess from being run through with fingers. Magnus wanted so badly for this fight to be over, for it never to have happened, for there to be a better answer to this problem. Alec, it seemed, wanted the same thing, as he wordlessly folded himself down onto the couch. He looked over to his husband with a questioning look in his eyes, and Magnus- adept at reading the man in front of him- meets his gaze with a wordless answer. When Alec’s arms wrap around him he feels as if he was being flooded with warmth. Nothing is fixed, not yet, there is still a tension between them as palpable as ever, but the embrace of his husband has always done wonders in ways of making him feel better, and tonight was no different. “Alexander,” he sighs, ready to say- what? He wasn’t sure.

“Magnus no,” Alec interrupted, rubbing his arm, “Can I talk first? If that’s okay?” 

Magnus nods, knowing that he had words queued up to ask for this. “First, I love you,” Alec starts, looking at Magnus, ensuring he was hearing that, understanding that. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to minimize the things you’ve been through and what you have lost. I forget how different our experiences are with death. I wrote a will when I was 20 because we are taught that we die young as shadowhunters. Our bodies are only ever really viewed as a weapon or a means to an end. I think my will had maybe 4 lines. I left my bow to Jace, my pet goldfish to Max, my books to Izzy. I had so little to lose. Sometimes I thought that it might be easier to,” Alec pauses, taking a breath before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. What I mean to say is that death was never something I was terrified of, not in the way that most people are. Even shadowhunters can be scared to die, sometimes I think. But when I grew up dying was just something that was going to happen to me, and probably sooner than it would a mundane. It was just something that came with the territory you know?” Alec shrugged, looking off in the mid-distance. His hands were wringing together where they hung between his legs, and Magnus leaned in closer and snaked his free hand between Alec’s, intertwining their fingers. “I don’t really know why I brought it up. I just know that life is different for us both, and it’s different to me now than it was when I was a kid. I have so much to lose now, I just never valued my life in a way beyond whose cause I could be a martyr too, until you and then the boys and my life became something meaningful. And death was something that scared me. Because you’re immortal, and Max is immortal. And the thought of leaving you guys was always scary. Ultimately, you’re right, I know. I guess just having it laid out in the open, after so long of it being hidden between the lines was a lot to hear at once. I know immortality is hard, I know there are nightmares to it that you haven’t shared, that you can’t talk about. I love you and your immortality, and I’m sorry I keep bringing it up.” 

“Alexander,” Magnus’ mind is going a mile a minute, throwing him back and forth between thoughts and emotions and words he wants to say but isn’t sure he can articulate properly in English. “I love you. So much. I’m so sorry you didn’t feel alive- really alive- for so long, and I’m happy you are happy now. I know that immortality is always something that we will tackle. I just don’t want you to rush into something without really understanding the complexities of it. It’s not something we can have one conversation about and then bury it. And I know Jace was just giving you that information- as he said- but it’s not a clear pathway. I know I can’t make those choices for you, but I want you to take my input, I want you to hear me as a loving husband and not just a faceless voice that’s arguing with you. Please. I just need you to understand that it’s a cursed existence, love story or not.” 

Alec bites his lip and Magnus has to look away before his soft heart takes over where his brain exists and tells Alec to just do it, and that they can be together forever. He takes a breath. Allows himself a moment before looking back at his husband. “I know. I’m sorry I was on the defense. I didn’t mean to argue with you. I promise I hear you, and I understand where you are coming from. I love you, can we just forget that letter even exists? At least for tonight?” 

Magnus looked from Alec’s face to the fire message long ago left on the floor where Magnus dropped it, then to their forgotten dinner. It had been a mess of an evening, that much was for sure, but it was still one of their rare nights alone without the boys, and he was so tired of this stalemate where neither of them was wrong or right. “Yes,” he sighs, leaning more heavily against Alec’s side, “Please.” 

Alec turns his head and kisses him firmly, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Magnus replies, resting their foreheads together, “Always.” 

\---

EPILOGUE (ish) 

Their love was, in a word, enduring. Alexander had learned that while unconventional, they worked. It may wax and wane in its urgency, its closeness if only physical, but it was _true_. They knew each other, even as they changed and grew throughout the years, even if they drifted like ships in the night. They had spent decades upon decades together and spent a fair number of them apart. It hadn’t ached Alec like he once thought it might. They responded to things so differently, needed different stimuli to just get through it, they parted like planets, orbiting in the same gravitational pull. 

There were times of grief, of loss so immense, that Alec needed Magnus like a lung, and even now the pain of loss sometimes sent him back his constant in their times apart. But they allowed this, decided this, it would only work like this. And if Max could spend time with each of his dads, wherever they were, while also watching over his own family and Rafael’s relatives, then they could figure it out. 

It had been nearly 200 years since Alec had decided- after many conversations and several arguments- that he wanted the rune, he wanted immortality. 

Alec spends most of his days now split between his New York apartment, traveling to different areas of the shadow world to teach or speak, and the house that he shared with Magnus. He twisted the ring on his finger, the one sitting below his wedded union rune. That too, their marriage, evolved with time but stayed true. They had grown out of issues and grown into a state of their lives that worked. It wasn’t what he had imagined, but it worked. 

He was still in love with Magnus Bane, because immortality or not, that was something that would never change. If it would be them together at the end of the world, then Alec would welcome it. 

Even now, they had plans to meet for dinner after not seeing one another for several months of busy schedules and far-flung adventures. Alec had worn his nicest suit, and while he was pacing outside of the restaurant, reminiscing the way the world had changed from bodegas to the complex street setups and strange futurisms, a voice came from behind him. “Sir are you out here all by yourself? A beautiful man like you shouldn’t eat alone.” 

Alec turned, seeing Magnus now, his hair pulled back in his latest style of letting it grow out, strands of golden foil braided throughout. It was up in a bun now, expertly placed in its messiness. He wasn't wearing the necklace, but Alec knew that if he got the chance to strip down the layers Magnus wore, he would see the ever-present tattoo of the wedded union rune, small and just below his collarbone. He would kiss it, and it would heal every ache that he'd had after so long. Even now, after all these years, Alec still felt his stomach flutter at the sight of the ever-changing man in front of him. “I’m actually waiting for my husband, have you seen him? He’s a gorgeous man with long hair, probably dressed much nicer than I am, shorter than me.” 

Magnus shoots him a glare, shaking his head and smirking. “Well I haven’t seen anyone all that much shorter, but I will keep an eye out.” 

Then they are embracing, and his arms still feel like the only true home that Alec has ever known. 

They were unconventional lovers, but one thing remained true after the centuries of this being their reality, they were better together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this labor of love, I have so many conflicting feelings about these two and the way immortality results in their relationship, but this was the closest I could get to content with them, so I do hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> Comments/Kudos/Feedback are all encouraged and greatly appreciated!


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